


As It Was

by Rowdyravenclaw



Series: A Good Man [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War, Bearded Steve Rogers, F/M, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Self-Deprecating Steve Rogers, Smangst, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, There Will Be An EndGame Part 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 07:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19080208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowdyravenclaw/pseuds/Rowdyravenclaw
Summary: He was Captain America, he could have anyone he wanted, why would he want her? She was the kind of girl who didn’t deserve a guilt-ridden, baggage-carrying superhuman dragging her down. In the assumption the other had deserved better than anything they’d had to offer, they’d lost so much time.





	As It Was

They’d always had a “thing”. It was unspoken, never acted upon, but always recognized. Everyone knew it, too. Natasha would eye them knowingly when he laughed a little too hard at a joke, and Tony, he never missed the opportunity to nudge and shove Steve in her direction when he caught the Captain staring. Then there was Bruce, always trying his best to skate around the subject in conversation, hoping at least one of them would admit it. They never did. They hid under the guise of friend and colleague, but deep down they—and everyone else—knew it was more.

He was Captain America, the golden boy, he ranked up there with apple pie and baseball in the eyes of the nation, and she was just, no one. Of course, Steve Rogers thought that the sun quite possibly was fueled by her, that once she was gone the world might cease to exist. At least his would. 

When the fallout from the Accords happened and he disappeared, he’d done so without a goodbye. Not that she’d thought he owed her one. She was a low level grunt, he was an Avenger, one could argue the leader of them (if Tony wasn’t around). She’d never stood a chance.

Life continued. Within a year, the world had seemingly forgotten about Captain America, but she hadn’t. No one had seen, heard from, even spoken of Steve Rogers, but he’d lived on in her thoughts. She hid in the memories of the soft touches to her shoulder as he’d pass that had evolved to brushes against her lower back, his chest grazing against her. Sometimes, she considered maybe there had been something there when she lie in her barren room tossing and turning in the early morning hours. Those times when she felt her cheeks grow hot as his eyes fell quickly from her when she noticed him staring, his mouth twitching as if he was holding back a smile—were they all in her head? Perhaps it had been real, or perhaps she just missed him more than she should. 

Jumping from place to place was exhausting, lonesome, and a painful reminder of the life he wished he had. The life he’d been too afraid to start. With each new seedy motel brought another cold, empty bed and the ghost of the woman he wanted to share it with. Sam was sympathetic, assuring him one day he’d see her again, he’d be able to tell her how he felt. As if she’d be waiting for him. Why would she? She was beautiful and strong, she emitted a light that was unmatched. Any man was a fool not to be entirely enraptured with her. He was a fool. She’d have moved on, if there were even any feelings on her end to move on from. 

Natasha knew. She understood. She could always sense when the darkness began to close in, just as he could for her. They’d sit in silence, the cheap booze of choice between them emptying faster than it should, both trapped in their fantasizing loops. Every time the same beginning. 

“I know you loved her,” Natasha had said one night, soft and cautious.

“It doesn’t matter either way,” he snapped back, harsher than he intended.

“Sure it does. Ever wish you did something different?”

“I wish I did a lot of things differently.”

When Thanos invaded and Bruce had made contact, Steve’s stomach had dropped. They were under attack in New York. The side mission to retrieve Wanda and Vision had been a whirlwind of nerves and adrenaline. While he’d tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand, he couldn’t help obliging the nagging dread in the back of his mind that she was hurt, in danger or dead. Surely, Bruce would have warned him. But what if it was something else? What if she was happy, dating some guy who treated her right, who didn’t hide his feelings for years and then fall off the face of the planet? Guilt punched him right in the stomach. Was he really sitting here hoping she was just as miserable as he had been? As much as he wanted to say no, he would never… or did he?

Walking back into the Avengers Compound had his stomach in knots. He wandered his way back to his old room, expecting to find it torn down, back to vacant, but it was the same. Everything was exactly where he’d left it all those years ago. He sighed. His mind couldn’t make up where it wanted to be. This was worse than being on the road, he thought. Being back here, nostalgia cruelly seeping through his brain, infecting it with thoughts of what could have been, this was worse. All those nights he’d imagined her in one of those damp hotel rooms didn’t hold a candle to just how badly he wanted one of those drawers in his dresser to be overflowing with her things. The years away had done nothing but stoke the flames. 

The shower was warm, the stream strong enough to break through the outer layer of tension he’d been carrying for years. A perk of living in a Stark facility and not a hostel in the deepest, darkest recesses of the world. He stayed until the water began to run cold, he’d lost track of time, but this room held the fewest memories. He needed quiet, he needed to decompress, to sleep. Clean clothes were another perk, as was the bed calling his name. He sat on the edge, head in his hands, blonde hair falling messily over his fingers. The world needed saving and Captain America might soon be decommissioned, from regret and a broken heart.

“Steve?” a familiar voice rang out from the doorway, he’d almost forgotten what it sounded like, “Is that you?”

Slowly, he lifted his head and there she was. This was no illusion. His heart began pounding in his chest, his throat closing in as his mouth went dry. Her hair was shorter, but everything else had remained the same. Her brows were knit together, inspecting him, looking equally as shell-shocked as he felt. Every muscle screamed at him to run, pull her into his arms and never let her go, it was now or never. His brain won out. His self-loathing and his fears. She wasn’t his, she never had been.

“Hey…” he greeted, and she could hear his exhaustion and exasperation.

“It’s really good to see you,” she exhaled. _Was that relief?_

“Yeah, you too.”

This was his chance and he was blowing it. Years of playing this moment out second for second and none of them had gone his way. None of them had involved him pushing her away, but they should have. It’s all he’d ever done. This was characteristic and expected. 

“Can I come in?” she asked, shifting her weight forward in anticipation of his response.

“Sure,” he replied, perking up.

He stood, resisting his arms seemingly involuntary desire of raising to greet her, instead shoving his hands into the loose pockets of his pants, effectively grounding them from doing anything unwarranted. As she approached, the butterflies took flight. He hadn’t been this nervous since World War II, he didn’t miss it. She came within inches, her own arms held stiffly at her sides as if she too was fighting a similar battle to his own.

“Where have you been?” she inquired quietly, her eyes scanning his face, taking in the change in his appearance, “You look so different…”

“Everywhere and nowhere,” he laughed, surprised at the ease washing over him. She always did have that effect, “not many good barbers out where I was hiding…”

“I like it. It suits you.”

A smile broke through, a real one, for the first time in years. His eyes fell away bashfully; it was amazing just how quickly she could make his knees weak. Reason was lost, and in the momentary lapse of control his hand had reached out, sliding gently onto her hip. She was warm beneath his palm, heat flowing through his veins as he pressed his fingertips slightly deeper. It was too late to turn back now. As he anticipated a slap across his cheek, he was surprised when her hand laid gently onto his chest, her eyes following her fingers as she curled them against the fabric. He cursed the thin layer of cotton for existing. For a moment, he swore she saw her lower lip quivering, her eyes blinking four times rapidly, as if she was pushing back tears. 

“I um..” she began, voice shaking, “it’s nice to have you back, Cap.”

_Cap_. Whatever euphoria he was feeling quickly dropped. He was glad his eyes were already directed at the floor, there was nothing that could hide the sadness that was no doubt taking them over. Fingers grazed down her side as his hand fell away, it was too good to be true. It always had been. He was Captain America, Avenger, soldier, nothing more.

“Yeah, it’s nice to be back,” he sighed curtly, his tone firmer, ready to snap back into the persona that had become expected of him.

“I missed you.”

The words were barely discernible, but he didn’t dare ask her to repeat them, in fear she’d redact them. Dragging her lower lip through her teeth nervously, she moved her fingers against his chest again—it was almost intimate. The simple, small gesture sent a shiver down his spine. Their eyes locked again. This time, the walls had fallen, and vulnerability swam in their gazes.

“I missed you, too,” he sighed, taking in her touch and the way she was looking at him. His imagination had done her no justice.

A breathy laugh escaped her lips and it was then that he could see the tears pooling in her lower lids glistening in the dim lighting. She was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in a long while. He took a chance, cupping one side of her face in his hand, his breath hitching when she leaned her head into his palm, eyes closing as she slowly blinked in what looked like comfort. One tear escaped, and reflexively he swiped it with his thumb, wondering how many nights she’d cried for him while he was gone. As many as he had? When his hand reached up to cover hers he expected her to pull it away, but instead her fingers laced with his, holding him to her. He was star struck, in awe of the eyes gazing up at him so filled with reverence and adoration. He could hear his heart beating, feel the pounding of it in his ears. The world washed away and he leaned his head down, capturing her bottom lip between his, and his groan of relief as she pressed closer to him vibrated through them both. 

It took every modicum of self control he had to not grab her and release all of the pent up longing he’d been harboring. When he pulled away, she leaned up, pressing her lips to his again, and he knew in that moment she’d felt every second of pain he had these past years. He hadn’t made it all up, it wasn’t a figment of an overactive and lonely imagination; she’d missed him just as he’d missed her. All those little instants he’d remembered so vividly, they were real. The passing glances and fleeting touches, they could have been this. His stomach churned at the thought of all the wasted time, the nights and mornings that could have been. Was it too late to start now?

Their mouths moved with each other effortlessly, slow and searching, but he needed more. 

“Tell me what you want,” he told her, lips swollen and breath ragged.

“I just want you,” she answered, voice hoarse, eyes still closed as she pressed her forehead against his, “all of you.”

That was all he needed to hear. He dove back in, intentional and pleading, one arm wrapping tightly around her waist as his hand slid from her cheek to lock into the hair on the side of her head. As he pulled her flush to him her arms wrapped around his middle, clinging to him like she’d been waiting for this moment her entire life. It felt like she had. His tongue slid deftly between her lips and she welcomed each brush and pass of it against her own exuberantly. There was no fight for dominance, it was just them, together, finally. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, voice husky as he pulled away to look at her, needing to see her, see how he affected her. Maybe it was egotistical, but he’d dreamed of making her fall apart for far too many years to not perform when given the chance.

“Oh I think I do,” she confessed, chest heaving, “why’d we wait so long?”

They laughed, but deep down they knew there was nothing funny about it. It was years of bad decisions, self-deprecation and fear. He was Captain America, he could have anyone he wanted, why would he want her? She was the kind of girl who didn’t deserve a guilt-ridden, baggage-carrying superhuman dragging her down. In the assumption the other had deserved better than anything they’d had to offer, they’d lost so much time. Now, the world was threatened, who knew what lie ahead, but for tonight, they were here. 

Gently, he grabbed her hands, leading her to the bed. As much as they’d both wanted this, nervousness began to take over. He sat first, pulling her to stand between his knees, and even sitting he was still almost level with her face. Her breath was shaky as she stared at him, her fingers raising to trace over his cheek and in that moment he’d never felt more… loved. As she mapped his jaw, he turned slightly, pressing her palm to his lips gently, silently urging her on. He was hers for the taking. Reclaiming his kiss, her arms draped loosely around his neck; they learned as much as they could. What caused that sharp intake of her breath? Which motion caused his fingers to dig a little further into the soft skin of her hips? Their pace quickened, and before they knew it shirts had been discarded and pants wrestled off and she pulled away just enough to marvel at the sight before her.

He was every bit of the superhero she’d imagined he’d be. Muscle dipped and curved around his torso, strong, thick arms branching out, she felt inadequate and small in front of him. Sensing her insecurity, he pulled her into his chest, her knees now resting on either side of him as she nestled into his lap.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose in the hollow behind her ear, “even more perfect than I imagined you to be.”

The thought of him longing for any of this had her stomach tightening, “Imagining what exactly?” she pressed, desire overtaking her brain.

“Why don’t I show you?”

This wasn’t real, she was passed out on a desk somewhere, she had to be. Yet as he turned, lifting her easily before laying her head onto his pillow, the feel of his forearms pressing into her back as his beard scratched against her chin when his lips returned to her own screamed that this wasn’t a dream. Just as quickly as he’d began, he abandoned her kiss-drunk mouth in favor of exploring the new, uncharted territory he’d uncovered, needing to feel and taste as much of her as he could. He traveled down her jaw to her throat and while he never intended to lose himself, he had, leaving a trail of small purple welts in his wake. His cheeks burned red as he pulled away, his eyes darting to her face as he expected to see her horrified and angry, but she wasn’t. Her fingers tangled into his hair and began to scratch soothingly at his scalp, freeing his concerns to return to his task. As he moved downwards, worshipping every scar and freckle, his hands exploring whatever his lips could not, he felt her slowly begin to relax. 

When his fingers finally pressed against her throbbing clit, she seized, trying haplessly to not trap his head between her legs as he peppered soft, fleeting kisses to her inner thighs. This was sensory overload, every inch of her burned and ached, and he was too close and too far at the same time. Firmly, she wrapped her fingers into his long hair, thanking whatever circumstances had led to him growing it out, and pulled his face back to hers, sloppily shoving her tongue into his mouth. The time for sensuality was over.

Not needing any words, he understood. Her riled state was like a drug, and watching her lose control by his hand might never get old, he thought. He hoped he’d get to do it again and again for the rest of his life. The thin sheen of sweat that had formed across her skin had her practically glowing, Her thighs were spread wide, giving him complete freedom and access, and when he thrust his middle finger deep inside of her, the way her mouth opened in a breathless, silent scream was something straight out of his fantasies. She writhed and tensed beneath him, the brush of her skin against him as she arched sent goosebumps in its wake, one small part of him wanted to stay here in this moment forever. He could care less that he was untouched; seeing her face contorted by pleasure was enough for him, but soon she wanted more.

Winding her arms around his neck she pulled him parallel to her flushed body, wrapping her legs around his waist as she stared up into his icy, blue eyes. His blond hair fell forward, brushing gently into her face and it was his turn to unravel. He pressed in slowly, savoring every inch as he slid inside of her, his eyes clamped shut as he tried his best to keep himself together. When their hips finally met, his cock buried inside her completely, he paused. He was trembling, years of pent up sexual frustration and longing cursing to ruin this moment, but he’d be damned if it did.

“You okay?” he asked, kissing hard before she could respond.

“Yeah,” she whined, wiggling her hips, urging him forward.

Of course he obliged. Keeping an even, steady pace was much harder than he recalled it being, or maybe it was just her making self control a near impossible feat, but he managed. Her moans and whimpers were the most intoxicating sounds that he’d ever heard, the thought alone that he himself was doing this to her was addicting and astonishing. But when his name fell from her lips in a blissed sigh, he was ruined. It flitted into his ears like the sweetest symphony, and his head fell forward into the crook of her neck as he groaned, eyes snapping shut as he let his other senses take over. He felt her hot, wet heat surrounding him, listened for her raspy breathing as the sweet smell of her perfume wafted into his nose. Her fingers were digging into the taut muscles of his back, thighs clenching around him as her impending release built up stronger and stronger. 

“Steve...” she whined again, having enjoyed the first reaction. The second didn’t disappoint.

His desperate moan fell hot against her throat, his pace growing faster as he fought to please her. One of the most powerful men to ever grace the earth was reduced to a panting, quivering mess, exposed and raw, as he gave himself to her. All of him. When the true significance of the moment settled into her head, it was like her nerves revved into overdrive. 

As much as neither wanted this to end, the pressure was becoming unbearable. His teeth were clenched as he tried to push it back, the muscles of her stomach and thighs tightening as she clung to him for dear life and then, their dams broke simultaneously. A high-pitched moan rang free from his chest as he pulled out at just the right moment, spilling across her stomach, his free hand reaching down to ensure she rode her ecstasy for as long as possible. Panting, he fought to keep his eyes open, to watch her pleasure fueled squirms and hear the soft, restrained noises trickling free from her throat. Never in his life had he ever felt so satisfied, so light and free. It wasn’t the sex, this was more than that. It had been the comfort of being safely sheathed inside her body that she’d willingly given to him, her arms wrapped around him holding him close. He felt… normal.

The fog in her head began to clear and she could hear her heaving breaths as she came back down. She could feel his warmth radiating from above her, his weight dipping her further into the mattress than usual. He was all-consuming, and she was content with the fact that she wanted to be _his_. She always had. There was no right way to bridge that subject, what if this was a one time thing? Returning from life on the run had to be taxing, bizarre, disorienting, perhaps he just needed something to ground himself. Someone to ease him back into life as he’d once known it, and she’d happened to stumble upon him at the right moment. 

“I think you need a shower now, doll, sorry about that…” he chuckled, his voice snapping her fully back to reality.

_Doll _. A normal despiser of pet names, she felt her stomach jump at his words. Lazily, his mouth pressed against hers again, he was clearly just as spent as she was. She returned his gesture just as slow, running her hand along the length of his arm, feeling the flex of his bicep as he shifted above her.__

__“Wish my room wasn’t so far,” she nervously faltered, hoping the statement was enough to let him know she was ready to be told to leave._ _

__“Your room? I have a shower ten feet away,” he replied, his face twisting into amusement._ _

__“I didn’t think you’d want me to stay…”_ _

__“Of course I want you to stay. What kinda guy do you take me for, huh?”_ _

__His smile could light the darkest night, she was almost certain. Always genuine and toothy, fine lines crinkling the outer corners as it reached eyes. She loved the rare moments when he was carefree and unburdened and never once did she think it would be her that would pull out one of those heart-stopping grins. Quickly, he pressed his lips to her forehead, instructing her to join him when she was ready, and after a few moments to compose her rampant thoughts, she did._ _

__When Natasha went to find Steve a few hours later, a knowing smile tugged at her lips as she slowly pushed the door open after receiving no response. The pair was soundly asleep, Steve on his back, his arm protectively wrapped around her small figure nestled into his side. It had only taken him a few years, but he’d finally gotten the courage to go for it. For a moment she wondered just how much of it was his doing, and how much was the others. She assumed it was the latter._ _

__“Good for you, Steve,” she smiled under her breath, closing the door quietly behind her._ _

__The next morning, her eyes were greeted by a very unfamiliar glow—the sun. Typically, she never made it much past dawn, so waking to a subtle orange glow burning through the thin skin of her eyelids was foreign, as was the firm, hot surface she was laying on. It took a moment to regain her thoughts, the events of the past night flooding back as her eyes fluttered open to the sight of the man she’d spent it with. He was still out cold, his mouth slightly open as he rest, and she knew he needed it. Without even thinking, her fingers began running up and down the expanse of his smooth, pale skin, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek lulling her right back into a serene dream state. Before long, she felt him stir beneath her, his head turning to rest against hers, fingers drawing absent-minded circles along her back as he roused slowly from the best sleep he’d had since the ice._ _

__“Morning,” he greeted, his voice still heavy with sleep, one side of his mouth ticked up in a smirk._ _

__“Hey,” she breathed, replaying every action that brought her here to waking up in his arms._ _

__“Sleep okay?’_ _

__“Mhmm, you?”_ _

__“Better than I have in a long time.”_ _

__His openness surprised her. Despite this entire thing being brand new, he had no restraints in letting her know how much he wanted her there with him._ _

__“Me too,” she admitted before pushing herself up to lay a sweet, simple kiss on his lips._ _

__Bruce came knocking seconds later, a happy smile settling onto his face at the discovery of them together. He’d known all along that this was where they’d both wanted to be, making the news he bore even harder to deliver. It was time to go. With the fate of the universe held in the balance, there was no time for slow, lazy mornings. Not yet, but Steve would be damned if he didn’t fight with everything he had so there would be._ _

__“You coming?” he inquired, pulling her further into his embrace, “We could use all hands on deck.”_ _

__That wasn’t a question she’d been expecting. Never once had she ever anticipated going on mission with the Avengers, especially one of this caliber. Steve had given her a summary as they’d laid in bed the night before, explaining what bits and pieces he’d collected himself. He’d tried his best to sound confident and ready, but she could hear the waver in his voice. This opponent was nothing like they’d ever seen before, with a mission far more sinister than any other._ _

__“You want me to go?” she doubted, feeling like her presence would be a distraction, a risk._ _

__“I do,” he cooed, “I want you with me… not because I don’t think you can protect yourself, because you can… it’s just, I spent years… wishing, and now that you’re here, I… I’m sorry, I’m… idealizing here...”_ _

__“Steve…” she began, seeing in his eyes he had the same doubts she’d had the night before, “I’m here.”_ _

__She meant it, and she knew he did too. Despite this being new, it felt like they’d been here forever. Maybe it was years of wishing for it or visions of the other and what could have been at every near-death experience, but this felt comfortable, routine, complete. Their mouths found the other again, this time purposeful and heated, he didn’t want to leave without again showing her how much he’d prayed for this to whatever or whoever might be out there listening._ _

__“Everyone is waiting…” she breathed out, reaching between them to grab his stiffening erection, mission be damned._ _

__“Let them wait another ten minutes,” he growled, pulling her on top of him._ _

__In one quick stroke he filled her, bottoming out as she easily slide down the length of him, her mouth hanging open as their foreheads met. She rode him to completion, throwing inhibitions to the wind, showing him just how good he made her feel. If they were heading into a battle where they were outmatched and outgunned, there would be no regrets. He let her have her way with him, use him to get herself off, and he watched in awe. Sweat-soaked hair covered her forehead, and he pushed it from her eyes, needing to see her falling apart for him; he was going to remember this until the day he died. Once she was spent, she collapsed on top of him, whispering how badly she wanted to feel him and his primal urges took over. With one quick flip she was beneath him, his hips crashing into hers in desperation, soft, grunting moans filling the room until he sighed in utter relief as he came. Leaving this bed was going to be a challenge, but losing her would be worse._ _

__The flight to Wakanda was filled with nerves. No one spoke. Steve sat in the back of the jet on his own while she rekindled with Natasha, her mentor and trainer for many years. Nat didn’t broach the subject of Steve, not wanting her to know she’d seen them the night before, but she could see a difference in her pupil’s eye. They were brighter, more filled with life and purpose. Steve gave her purpose, and Nat knew that protecting her would always be his will to persevere._ _

__When the battle ensued, they were quickly separated. She found out the hard way that this was far above her pay grade. Her heart pounded as she lie panting on the ground, the carnage ensuing around her. Tears burned against her eyes as she watched the Wakandans falling, the alien creatures swarming faster than they could keep up._ _

__“Get up, doll,” Steve encouraged as he knelt beside her from out of nowhere, “you can do it. I know you can.”_ _

__Nodding, she let him pull her to her feet, his hand gripping behind her head as he pulled her in for a quick kiss—he couldn’t resist. With a stern instruction to stay safe and alert, he was gone, the arrival of Thor pulling his attention away. His words gave her strength, and she picked up her weapon and went back to work._ _

__“Somebody get to Vision!” Steve screamed into the earpiece firmly placed in her ear and she took off in a run back towards the tower._ _

__Unknowing of what exactly she was walking into, she was glad to see Bruce had already arrived, but her stomach dropped when he was quickly thrown from the scene, at least taking one of Thanos’ creatures with him. Embarrassingly, she hid as she watched Vision struggle against his adversary, but she knew there was nothing she could do. She prayed someone else was coming. Wanda had responded but had yet to appear, and her mind wandered to just who they may have lost in the crossfires._ _

__When Steve came sprinting from the side, she sighed in relief. He hadn’t seen her, but had commanded Vision to run, whose eyes immediately fell to her in her hiding place and then returned to the fight. He knew she’d been there all along and her face burned in shame. Turning her attention back to the fight she watched as Steve was tossed around like a rag doll, and she froze in fear. Her brain screamed at her to help him, but her muscles were paralyzed as she watched the man she loved, a man she thought invincible, being slowly choked to death before her eyes._ _

__Vision calling her name softly peaked her attention, his finger pointing to the alien scepter that had been tossed near her left hand. She grabbed it, Vision’s small nod urging her forward and she ran, a guttural scream rattling through her bones as she shoved it straight through the Captain’s attacker in one fell stroke, every ounce of strength even she didn’t know she had pushing out through her hands. Steve’s eyes went wide as the blade jutted out from the chest inches from his face, as he was unsure if the blade was friend or foe. His lungs were fighting to regain lost air, and he pushed himself to the side as the body of his assailant fell forward, revealing his savior. She fell to her knees beside him, grabbing his face in her hands as she assessed him, a tear sliding from the outer corner of her eye._ _

__“You’re okay,” she stated, more telling herself than him, “you’re okay.”_ _

__“Atta girl…” he sighed in relief, pulling her into his chest, the shields attached to his arms making the embrace awkward but they didn’t care, “I need you to hide. I need you hide, darlin’. Okay?”_ _

__“What?” she scoffed, turning to look at him and she could see the terror that had fallen over his face._ _

__“I can’t lose you.”_ _

__Simple. Honest. She understood. Nodding, she kissed him, tasting the dirt on his lips. Vision’s scream from where he lay with Wanda at his side interrupted their brief, stolen moment. Thanos was coming. She watched as Steve transformed right back into Captain America, his face hardening and his back straightening. This was it. This was the end._ _

__“Go,” he commanded, and she knew there was no point in arguing._ _

__She couldn’t pull herself to go far, she needed him in her sight. The scene unfolding before her eyes was like nothing any of them could have predicted. They’d never stood a chance. Thanos walked through them all without so much as a scratch. When Steve had been knocked to the ground, his body unmoving on the forest floor, she ran to him. She didn’t care that the tyrant was still walking free among them, she didn’t care that she could easily be snapped in two, all she saw was him, lying limp on the ground, and that was all that mattered. Thankfully, she went undetected as she turned him over, trying to keep her sobs in check to keep attention off of her._ _

__“Steve?” she whimpered, “Steve? Wake up…”_ _

__As her eyes darted from his unconscious form, to Wanda and Vision, to Thanos, she heard him groan._ _

__“I thought I told you… to hide…” he grimaced, holding his side._ _

__“Yeah… I don’t listen very well…” she teased, lacing her one hand’s fingers with his on his ribs, the other brushing his hair that had fallen into his eyes, “you gotta get up, come on.”_ _

__With her help, he pushed himself to a seated position and their attention was grabbed by the events unfolding. Wanda had effectively destroyed the stone, and Vision in the process, but the couple watched in horror as Thanos turned back time with no more than a simple turn of his wrist, before ripping the final stone from the revived Vision’s head. Steve’s arms wrapped around her, there was nothing left they could do. Their heads turned, foreheads pressing to one another as they shared what they assumed to be their final moment._ _

__“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, feeling his failure, “For everything.”_ _

__“You know, I think I love you, Steve Rogers,” she confessed finally, a weight lifting from her shoulders as she kissed the tip of his nose._ _

__“I do know. I do.”_ _

__Before he could kiss her again, the arrival of Thor sent a ripple of hope through the discarded heroes, his axe plunging deep in Thanos’ chest, but it was too little too late. Thanos snapped his fingers before disappearing, and with his last surge of energy Steve jumped to his feet and ran towards the scene, her hot on his heels._ _

__“Where’d he go?” Steve asked, desperate and exasperated as he searched, “Thor… where’d he go?”_ _

__“Steve,” Bucky called from the right, and they watched as the Winter Soldier dissolved into dust._ _

__He ran, kneeling down and running his fingers over the ash that was his best friend, his stomach dropping as his vision started to tunnel. He was gone, without a trace, his weapon discarded on the ground as if he’d never existed at all. Others followed in Bucky’s path, the pain of loss becoming palpable as members of their team disappeared. Steve pushed himself to standing, running and pulling her into his arms, his eyes frantic as his chest heaved. _Not her, too. Please not her_. They gripped each other tightly, squeezing to the point of dull pain as they waited in agony for their fates._ _

__“Please no,” she whimpered, “stay.”_ _

__“I’m not goin’ anywhere, doll. Okay? Look at me,” he directed, keeping his own fears suppressed, “look at me…”_ _

__He didn’t care who was watching. He dove in, kissing her hard and bruising, and in any other circumstances it would have been cause for celebration. But not today. Their remaining friends watched on as Captain America, their leader, their friend, their family, clung to the person he loved, his eyes pinched shut as he kissed her like it was the last time. No one knew yet if it was. It wasn’t happy, it was heartbreaking. They sat painfully still, hoping if maybe they didn’t move, it increased their chances of life, their foreheads pressed together, breath mingling between them._ _

__Hearts began to settle as time passed, the snap had seemingly done its work, and Steve kissed her again. Slower this time, thankful and pained. Somehow, they’d both made it out alive, but instead of a wave of relief, he was pummeled by guilt and failure. All those lives lost, they were on him. This was his loss, and trillions suffered because of it._ _

__“Steve…” she fretted, seeing the emotions playing across his face, cupping his jaw in her hand, “hey…”_ _

__“It should have been me,” he mourned, and her expression fell._ _

__“No. Don’t you dare…”_ _

__Leave it to him to shoulder every modicum of blame. Alone, he walked off and no one followed. She stood back with the remaining group, too shocked by his words to think clearly. He wished it was him that had dissipated to nothing. All she wanted to bury herself into his embrace, but he was gone. Nat’s hand found her shoulder in comfort, but she couldn’t let her tears free around them. Not without Steve._ _

__“Whatever happens next, don’t give up on him,” Nat insisted, her voice low enough for only her to hear, “He needs you, whether he wants to admit it or not.”_ _

__“Do you know where he went?” she asked, looking off in the direction walked off in._ _

__“If I had to guess, Bucky’s cabin.”_ _

__His feet couldn’t carry him fast enough as he ran through the forest, the branches whipping at his face, but he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything. When he reached the tiny cottage he was thankful it had remained unscathed in the attacks. His hand lingered on the door, fighting himself between needing to see it and knowing it was only going to make everything worse. Leaving Bucky here had been one of his most difficult decisions, but he knew it had been the best one. Being on the run had left no opportunity to come into Wakanda. Despite T’Challa’s promises that he would be safe there, he couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk the other people that had depended on him. Three of which were now dead. Thanks to him._ _

__Screaming, he threw the closest object, a table, to the opposite end of the small hut, his anger boiling his blood. Before he could wrangle it in, he was in a complete destructive rage. Furniture flung around the room as he bellowed and roared, and holes in the wall appeared from his fists when something hadn’t been close enough to grab. His cheeks were flushed, head drenched with sweat, hair falling wildly into his eyes. He was a man crazed._ _

__Finally, once all but the bed lay in ruins, he fell to his knees and let his tears flow freely. He wondered which of his decisions had led to this, which of his errors had been the catalyst for annihilation. Damn if he hadn’t tried, maybe if he hadn’t run, maybe if he’d agreed with Tony on the Accords or realized HYDRA’s infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D. sooner… The possibilities were endless and his mind couldn’t stop racing._ _

__“Steve…” she called as she approached, not wanting to join the broken and shattered contents of the house._ _

__“How long have you been here?” he asked, his voice cold and flat. Not that it mattered, the evidence of his destruction was surrounding him._ _

__“Long enough.”_ _

__Certainly now she’d want nothing to do with him, and then he truly would have lost everything. His head hung in shame as she stopped in front of him, and when her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into her chest, he sighed. She held him until his breathing slowed and his heart rate returned to normal. Her suit smelled like the Earth and ash, a stark reminder to the hell she’d been put through at his request. He’d asked to come here. He put her in danger over his selfish need to have her close. How different was he from any other villain? Risking the people he loved for himself._ _

__“You’re a good man,” she told him, “Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Not even yourself.”_ _

__“This was a mistake,” he replied, and she wasn’t sure what he was referring to._ _

__“What was?”_ _

__“Wrapping you up into my messes.”_ _

__“I made my choice.”_ _

__“You made the wrong one.”_ _

__“It was still mine to make.”_ _

__Her unwavering faith and devotion for him should have made his heart soar, but at the moment all he could see was her dead on the floor. It was the inevitable end, he knew it was. Everyone he’d ever loved had been lost. Why for one second did he think he wasn’t going to ruin her as well?_ _

__“Do you want me to love you, Steve?” she pressed and he could feel her eyes boring into him, yet he didn’t dare meet her gaze, “Or is it easier if you just think I hate you?”_ _

__“I don’t know,” he answered, and he didn’t._ _

__“If none of this matters to you then fine-‘_ _

__“I never said it didn’t matter.”_ _

__It mattered. It was the most important thing in his world. She was everything, and he was nothing. He didn’t deserve her love, he didn’t deserve anyone’s. Half of life had just ceased to exist thanks to him and his failures, and it was by some grace from a higher power that she had survived; she deserved to remain untainted by him._ _

__An uncomfortable silence settled as she waited for him to make a decision, her cheeks growing hot as she fought back her tears. She was exhausted, mentally and physically. Losing him now would be far too much to bear and she had to fight. Nat’s words played over in her head, and she knew the hardest battle would be breaking through his own thoughts. His head turned to peer at her and he looked lost. His face was red and blotchy, eyes heavy and dark with guilt and blame and she was certain she’d never loved anyone more. Not that it mattered. He was checked out, receded back behind the walls of a responsibility no one man should have to carry alone._ _

__“This was not your fault,” she stated strongly, placing her hands on either side of his face._ _

__His silence spoke louder than any words could have._ _

__“Tell me to leave,” she commanded, letting her hands fall from his face. She needed to hear him say it._ _

__He couldn’t, it would be a lie to the highest order, and despite it all, he couldn’t lie to her. Even if it was the right thing to do, to save her from himself, he couldn’t do it._ _

__“I don’t want you to leave,” he cried, unable to keep his pain from surfacing in his voice._ _

__“What do you want then?” she asked him, and he wished her hands were still softly cradling his jaw, his head was throbbing and he felt as if he was about to collapse._ _

__What did he want? He wanted to go back in time, fix his mistakes, kill Thanos, kiss her seven years ago when life was easier and time was infinite. He wanted to throw her against that wall and fuck her until he was drowning in her, his brain numb and focused only on the way it felt to be buried inside of her. He wanted sleep, a shower, a hug… The list droned on as he felt his eyes getting heavy, the events of the day catching up to him, his adrenaline finally faltering._ _

__“I don’t know,” he told her again, his uncertainty in himself was making her ache, “but I don’t want you to leave. Even though I think you should.”_ _

__“I’m not leaving,” she affirmed, walking away from him to sit on the bed._ _

__“Your call.”_ _

__With a gentle pat on the bed beside her, she beckoned him over, and he obeyed. She was a pillar of strength, the eye of the storm and the home he’d been searching for his entire life. Her arm guided him to his side, his head laid gently in her lap. When her fingers began gently raking through his hair, he felt the knot in his chest loosen ever so slightly. Watching him unravel before her eyes was a form of cruel and unusual punishment, she’d spent too long wishing for this and fear had infiltrated her thoughts. He would be lost before they’d even began._ _

__They sat in silence, the room going dark as the sun set, but neither moved._ _

__“It should have been me,” he whimpered as the last of the light dipped below the Wakanda tree line, his body tensing as he spoke the words._ _

__“Well, it wasn’t,” she confirmed, “and is this how you want to use the time you’ve been given?”_ _

__“I don’t know what I want, I don’t know what to do, I don’t…. know. I don’t know.”_ _

__“Stop saying that and think, Steve. The first thing that comes to mind, say it.”_ _

__“I want to go back.”_ _

__“You can’t.”_ _

__“I want to go home.”_ _

__“Okay. Let’s go home.”_ _

__The Compound wasn’t the same. No one made eye contact, mumbled greetings in passing were the only words anyone spoke. Steve had insisted she stay in his room with him, but she wasn’t sure why. He was a shell of his former self, barely there and functioning. He never slept, he never ate, he was too busy searching the universe for signs of Thanos or Tony Stark, both which had disappeared without a trace. Every day he came up empty. Some nights he’d oblige her with quick, detached sex. She wasn’t sure if he was just going through the motions of what she expected of him, or if the release was just something he needed to reset his brain. Still, every night she fell asleep alone in his bed, staring at the empty left side. She didn’t dare bring it up, either, knowing it would only work to wreck him further. She just persevered, hoping that after time he’d return to his normal self, or at least wake from this trance he’d set himself into._ _

__Every so often, when he walked by her, his hand would drift to her hip, his lips tugging into a sad smile. He knew what he was doing, but the awareness of his shortcomings wasn’t enough to make him change. He was all-consumed. She was quiet, and he didn’t know if it was a result of the state of the world, or him. When he slipped into bed in the wee hours of the morning, her hair fanned out along his pillow, her face at ease as she slept, he told himself it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. Yet he never found the courage to pull her into his chest like he so desperately wanted to, hold her close as he had the night before the world fell to ashes. Maybe because, deep down, he knew he was breaking her beyond repair._ _

__“Steve?” she had called out one day as he’d been at his usual post, staring at the blinking maps, hoping that one day something or someone would pop out at him. It had been twenty one days of nothing, hope was dwindling._ _

__“Hey,” he greeted quietly, his gaze not even turning to her._ _

__“Can you… give me a few minutes?”_ _

__“What do you mean?”_ _

__“I miss you…”_ _

__“I haven’t left.”_ _

__If he’d ever wished to take words back, those were the ones. The response was cold and shallow. He knew what she’d meant, and he’d just… disregarded it._ _

__“Do you even want me around?” she asked, her voice thick with the tears she was holding back, “because I can go…”_ _

__Hearing her say it was like a punch to his chest, so why couldn’t he answer her? Reassure her, take her hands and pull her into his arms. He wanted it, she wanted it, but he remained still. After a few seconds of his silence, she took it as his answer, nodding once before heading back to his room. No doubt to collect her things and leave. _You know, I think I love you, Steve Rogers_ replayed in his head, those had been her dying words. When for a moment she thought the world was ending, she’d confessed her love for him with her final breaths, and this was how he thanked her, how he showed her he felt exactly the same way._ _

__Love was a funny thing. It didn’t make sense or obey the laws of reason. It was messy and dirty and painful, but as Steve rounded the corner to see her slowly taking her clothes out of that drawer he’d left empty all those years, he knew that he’d let her destroy him if it would only make her feel better. She was one step from being gone and finally his priorities shifted. It wasn’t good that it had taken this drastic of a threat to get him to see the error in his ways, he knew that, but he couldn’t let her walk out that door._ _

__As she threw her things into a neat pile on the floor, tears falling down her reddened face, out of nowhere a pair of hands turned her around, pushing her up against the nearest wall. The bright blue eyes she’d been desperate to see stared back at her, inches away, and she didn’t know whether to respond with fear or passion. He was pinning her gently enough that if she wanted to leave, she could, his chest heaving, eyebrows furrowed and she wished she could hear the conversation happening in his head. Her hands trembled as she fought the urge to grab his waist and bury her face into his chest. He’d already rejected her once, why try again?_ _

__When she didn’t protest his nearness, he pushed forward, gripping under her thighs and lifting her around his waist, his mouth crashing down onto hers rough and fueled by regret. His tongue dove between her parted lips, her own welcoming him in, and his nerves quieted for a moment. Maybe it wasn’t already too late. It didn’t take long before his pants were pulled down and hers had disappeared, her body wrapped around him as he slammed into her over and over, desperate and starved. He couldn’t help the throaty moans that fell from his mouth against her neck with each slam of his hips against hers, apologies and professions mixed in as he tried to give her everything he had. She was virtually silent, her hands gripping him for dear life as her head flew further and further into the clouds._ _

__“Y’feel so good,” he whimpered, “I’m sorry, darlin’, I’m sorry.” He hoped she believed him._ _

__She came once, twice, three times, each more powerful than the last. Between his fingers, mouth and the ravaging pace he fucked her with, she was a goner. It made her wonder if this was the last time. If it was, at least he was making it memorable. She’d have the bruises to remind her for at least a week. Finally, his hips sputtered, head falling to the wall beside hers, sweaty and flushed. How was she ever supposed to get over him when this image of his satiated, blissed face would be seared into her brain forever?_ _

__“I want you to stay,” he insisted, pressing his forehead to her temple, her body frozen with shock, “I want you to stay.”_ _

__“Okay,” she assured, locking her fingers into his hair, and for the first time in a long time, he held her._ _

__Face buried into the crook of her neck, arms around her waist, she felt his silent promise to be better. When he lifted his eyes to look at her, his gaze searching her face for signs of forgiveness, she smiled. One last chance, she didn’t need to say it. There was only so much pain a person was willing to subject themselves to for the sake of love, and she’d endured more than her share at his expense. He thought back to his actions over the previous three weeks, how he’d pushed her further and further away each passing day and she had stayed faithful, patient and present. He didn’t deserve her, but she didn’t deserve to hurt from his own deprecation, it wasn’t her burden to bear. She’d chosen him and now, he realized, he needed to covet that decision. It wasn’t made lightly or easily. She’d fought for this against time, aliens and even he himself._ _

__“I love you,” he finally said, and her eyes snapped shut. Finally, confirmation._ _

__That night he crawled into bed beside her, clutching her close as they drifted to sleep, his mind quieting long enough to allow a few solid hours. He woke feeling like a new man. He stayed in bed until her eyes fluttered open, her fingers caressing against his chest in the most endearing of ways._ _

__“What did you want to do today?” he asked, pulling a surprised look from the woman nestled against him. Today, and everyday hereafter, would be theirs._ _

__The question was futile. The universe had other plans. As she showered, getting ready for a day of what was supposed to be a new beginning, a new superhuman had appeared looking for Nick Fury. She was the other end of the mysterious pager that had been bestowed upon them from who they had assumed had belonged to the man she was searching for. Now they knew. Fury had been hiding his knowledge of this woman for years. No one knew a thing, or if she could even be trusted, until she promised to find the missing Tony Stark, if he was still out there, and bring him home. Then they had no choice but to believe._ _

__When “Carol” had left, Steve looked to her with a deep sadness in his eyes. The world as it was came first, it always would._ _

__“Just… be in bed by ten…” she teased, pressing herself against into his side, his arms wrapping around her._ _

__He smirked as he kissed her forehead, “It’s a date.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Once Endgame comes out and I can rewatch there will be an AU Part 2!


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